Worse Than Death

At Her Mercy

Note: TRIGGER WARNING. Graphic descriptions ahead regarding ongoing injuries. Also please don’t kill me…

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            Cold and damp, Arthur staggered out of the cave. “Mystery!” He coughed, the swordpoint dragging along the ground. “L-Lewis, guys…” He came to a stop as he passed through the entrance illusion.

            The ground all around the entrance had been torn up. Deep furrows raked haphazardly all about, and small craters were blasted all about, ringed in black. Nearby trees were charred to a crisp, and embers floated in the air.

            But his friends weren’t there.

            His grip on the hilt tightened as fear began crawling up his spine. They wouldn’t leave him, not like this. There’d obviously been a fight. Had they been killed? Kidnapped? The only party interested and able to overtake Mystery was Morgause.

            “Your name is Arthur.”

            Arthur spun to his right, brandishing the sword with a shaking arm. At the end of it was a tall woman. She bore herself with a regal grace, her raven-black hair pooling around her shoulders and her stormy, sea-green eyes regarding him with a mix of pity and amusement. Arthur could see the trunks of trees and the charred landscape through her body. He shook, his body trembling from the cold and from fear.

            “That is not the proper way to hold a sword.” She said mildly, gliding forward. He leaped back and she paused. “I mean you no harm, Arthur. It is my sister you fear, not me. My name is Morgan LeFay.” She reached out a hand, gently repositioning his grip. “This is how you hold her, and widen your stance. You’ll be knocked over in a moment if you stand like a tree. You only have one arm, so you’ll have to compensate in your balance. She’s heavier than she looks.”

            Arthur eyed her warily. “What are you doing h-here? Did you have anything to do with all this?” He jerked his chin at the wrecked landscape.

            She drifted back a few paces, her expression sorrowful. “I did not do this. But I come with her message. She knows you have the sword Excalibur. She demands in exchange for Vivi’s soul the sword Excalibur, and in exchange for Lewis’ spirit yourself.”

            Arthur’s heart plummeted. He sank to a sitting position, resting the sword across his knees. “Why does she want the s-s-sword?” He asked, not ready to voice the second question. “I mean, I was hoping there’d be something about it to help me, but I was real-lly betting on the Lady of the L-Lake, and she’s not interested.” He coughed again, wiping his face.

            Morgan’s eyes traced the length of the sword reverently. “That is not for me to disclose. She was ever a mysterious sword, and greater than I. But Morgause knows of the power of the sword. There is a deep magic in it, and she hopes to heal what Vivi did to her body.” Her eyes lifted mournfully. “And perhaps live forever.”

            Arthur frowned. “N-none of the l-l-legends said anything a-about living forever, and K-King Arthur died.”

            “Yes. He did.” She shook her head slowly. “And I will not pretend to know why the power of Excalibur was withheld from him in his last moments. But my sister desires that power. And she desires you in her power.”

            Arthur’s shoulders hunched as he braced himself to spit out the second question. “What is she going to d-d-do to me?”

            A cold hand touched his cheek, gently. “I don’t know. Her mind is torn. But she will make you suffer deeply should you come to her.”